Shalt pine and dwindle, stranger to the name
Of joy, a wasted shadow, bloodless sucked
To fatten wrathful gods. Thou dost not speak,
But, as a thing devoted, standest dumb,
My prey, even mine! my living banquet thou,
My fireless victim. List, and thou shalt hear
My song, that binds thee with its viewless chain.
Chorus.
Deftly, deftly weave the dance!
Sisters lift the dismal strain!